Awakening
by piperkathleenpotter
Summary: After Quinn comes over to comfort Rachel following yet another Finchel break-up, the two end up entangled on Rachel's bed, on the brink of a whole new awakening.
1. Chapter 1

Routine is a part of daily life, motions that you go through without really even thinking about them. It was the only way, she believed, that anyone could possibly get through the morning—you just get up, hop in the shower, and make your way to the bottom of a bowl of Cheerios without ever really waking up.

But even after your first shot of caffeine catapulted you into the real world, you usually followed some sort of set pattern. You drove the same route to work, you ate lunch around the same time and with the same people; you curled up at the same spot on the couch to watch the same shows every week.

That being said, Quinn Fabray knew with every fiber of her being that she would never get used to this.

It had been a few weeks since she'd come over to Rachel's apartment. Quinn thought it was funny now that it had been such a drab, drizzly day, considering what had come out of it. She remembered literally bumping into Finn—upon striking her elbow against a glass storefront, Quinn had been violently reminded of all the Glee club rehearsals where his behemoth feet had sent him crashing into her and various other clubbers, including the pianist, Brad.

_"Hey, wa—Finn?"_

_He blinked at her, reminding her strangely of a moose—tall and broadshouldered, with those wide, dark eyes of his and the way his shaggy hair still stood up around his face, drawing attention to his sleepy expression like a neon sign._

_Finn smiled at her, a friendly, genuine grin. "Quinn! Sorry about that. How are you?"_

_"I'm good," she said, smiling back. "My sister and her husband just moved to Manhattan, so I'm visiting. What's up with you? How's—" Quinn's heart gave a stupid, uncomfortable little wriggle in her chest as she forced herself to speak the name calmly. "Rachel?"_

_He looked away, the smile falling from his face. "We, uh—we just broke up, actually. About five minutes ago."_

_Quinn tried to keep control of expression, but she couldn't help herself. She was glad for Finn's shifting gaze, which would not light on her, but instead followed a circuit from the lightpole, the awning over Quinn's head, to the sidwalk at his feet and back again._

_"I'm sorry," she said, glad at least that her voice was neutral. "What happened?"_

_As Finn explained himself to her, Quinn felt a strange, virulent mixture of anger and hope that expanded in her chest, pressing against her lungs so that she could barely breathe. By the time she made her way to the address Finn gave her—what excuse has she used? she didn't even remember now—only one idea had managed to stay alive in her oxygen-deprieved brain._

_I have to tell her the truth._

Now, she and Rachel were curled around each other in bed, entwined in so many different places that Quinn wasn't sure how they were ever going to become untangled.

Which was, she thought, a perfectly pleasant problem.

Rachel trailed her lips along the curve of Quinn's breasts. Her warm breath acted as a stimulant against the delicate, soft skin, as her fingers made small circles that descended downward from Quinn's ribs.

Quinn took a deep breath, tangling her fingers in Rachel's thick, gorgeous brown hair. "Kiss me," she begged, and the other girl lifted her face to hers, pressing her lips against Quinn's with the slighest, most delicious pressure.

The slow progression of Rachel's hands was almost unbearable. Quinn wanted her, so much that the pressure between her legs was close to pain. "Rachel," she managed, between rapidly deepening kisses. "Rachel…"

"Lie back," Rachel instructed, carefully pulling away from Quinn and kissing her again, pushing on her shoulders.

Quinn did as she was told, and Rachel, with a michevious grin, began placing kisses from Quinn's mouth to the original starting point of her breasts. Very, very carefully, she bit at the erect nipples, using her tongue to soften the sting of her teeth.

Helplessly, Quinn whimpered, her back arching. She felt Rachel smile.

Rachel brushed her lips over Quinn's ribcage, stopping to gently part Quinn's thighs with her hands. Quinn uttered a little cry of excitment, so eager for Rachel to continue that she began to beg, a rapid run of syllables that sounded like _. _

The feel of Rachel's lips, Rachel's tongue, between her legs brought her to this incredible point of pleasure, wiping all thought from her mind except Rachel's name, which she uttered every few seconds without really being aware of doing so.

Just as Quinn was certain she was going to orgasm, Rachel lifted her head, kissing her way back up Quinn's body to meet her lips again. Rachel put first one finger, and then two, inside Quinn, who wrapped her arms and legs around Rachel to bring her even closer.

"Ra—Ra—"

Quinn's hands were making their way around Rachel's body, traversing the beautiful muscles of her back, the lines of her thighs. She let her own fingers slip inside Rachel, her pleasure increasing as Rachel put her head back and gasped.

"Don't stop," Rachel begged. "Quinn—Quinn—don't stop, please—"

At that moment, intense pleasure ripped through Quinn, a supernova beginning between her legs and spreading through her, relaxing every muscle in her body and leaving her limp and breathless. Still, she focused on Rachel, who was making little mewling noises and squeezing her eyes shut tightly, trembling.

When Rachel gave a yell and slumped against Quinn, they wound their arms around each other, Rachel's head resting against Quinn's stomach.

"Ah," Quinn said, her voice hoarse and shaky. "That was—"

"Quinn?" Rachel interrupted, lifting her head to look Quinn in the eye. "You know, I'm the female lead in Spring Awakening and that play is entirely about, as the title may suggest, a personal awakening, of an emotional nature as well as a sexual one."

At this familiar little speech, Quinn smiled. "Yeah?"

"Well, you know how serious I am about characterization," Rachel continued.

"Of course."

Rachel smiled at her, a feral smile full of desire that made Quinn feel strange and shivery. "Our sexual encounter just now really helped with that, but, you know—"

Quinn grinned. "Practice makes perfect?"

"Exactly."


	2. Chapter 2

"There ain't a reason you and me should be alone tonight, yeah, baby..."

She turned her face up to the spray, belting out those incredibly emotional like she was on center stage. Of course, that was how Rachel Berry did everything-as if a spotlight was trained on her as she was strutting down the aisle of a packed theater, dolled up and feeling the awe-struck gazes of thousands of people trained on her, devouring her every move.

With a little smile, she remembered the first time the New Directions had performed at sectionals, her hair loose, wearing that black dress with the red ribbon wrapped around her waist.

_Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter. Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter. Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade..._

Without even realizing, Rachel slipped into the "Funny Girl" tune. As she was massaging the shampoo into her scalp, she closed her eyes tight and gave the song everything she had-more, she realized, than she had given in a rehearsal in years.

God, she missed Glee club. She missed it with every fiber of her being. Not the way it had been in the end, though-with Santana hurting so badly, with her and Mercedes and Brittany splintering from the group to join Shelby's show choir. She missed the way it had been in the beginning, before New Directions had become the next Vocal Adrenlaine, the ones to beat-she missed the way things had been when all they had was each other and the music.

_Don't tell me not to fly, I've simply got to. If someone takes a spill, it's me and not you! Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade?_

Her voice soaring up into the high note, Rachel didn't hear the bathroom door open. But she did hear the sweet, silvery soprano that joined her; their harmony made Rachel's breath catch, just like the other girl's touch earlier that morning.

Through the opaque shower curtain, Rachel saw the girl's silhoutte as she removed her clothes-the snowy white cardigan, the blue dress slipping down her long, elegant body. Her shoes had been kicked off the moment she'd entered Rachel's apartment, as had the fine, delicate stockings in a sweet, slow striptease.

Rachel stared, her voice peterng away, as Quinn Fabray peeled back the curtain, still singing, a smile curving that beautiful mouth of hers.

"I'm gonna live and live now, get what I want-I know how." Quinn stepped up behind Rachel, wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist and pressing their bodies close together.

The steam seemed to bind them together, the hot water plastering Quinn's blonde hair against her skin. She slipped her thigh between Rachel's own, one hand pressed to the small of Rachel's back, the other cupping her face.

"You skipped a few verses," Rachel mumbled, which made Quinn laugh.

"It's my favorite part," she said, and began to kiss Rachel's throat.

Rachel wound her arms tightly around Quinn, her head falling back as the other girl began to nip gently at her collarbone. "_Quinn_," she sighed.

Quinn lifted her head, her golden eyes bright and feverish. "I want you so bad, Rach," she murmured throatily. "Oh, God, I just want you so bad."

The feeling of Quinn's legs between her own-the warmth, the solidity of it, the smoothness of her skin-made Rachel absolutely weak with desire. Their bodies, slick with water, felt as though they were inexorably plastered together.

Their kissing, their touching, slowly built to a point where they were both shaking, raw with anticipation. They stumbled out of the shower, water still running, still entwined. Quinn was making these breathless little whimpers that turned Rachel on even more-she had absolutely no idea of the sounds coming out of her own throat, she was so focused on the beautiful blonde in her arms.

"Oh, Quinn," she murmured. "Oh, Quinn, you're so exquisite, you're so perfect-"

Quinn pushed her up against the bathroom counter, her mouth grinding almost roughly against hers. It hadn't been like this before; their lovemaking had been slow, shy, gentle. But now, at this kiss, it was hot and fierce, more passionate than anything Rachel had ever experienced.

They sank to the floor, onto the fluffy purple bathmat that Rachel had never been so glad for, as it protected her back against the icy tile flower. Quinn was between her legs, her tongue stimulating her, her hands massaging Rachel's thighs.

Rachel's back arched as she orgasmed, her head almost striking the side of the tub as she writhed in pleasure. Quinn crawled up her body, the ends of her hair tickling Rachel's skin deliciously. Unwilling to move, they simply curled around each other on the mat, breathless.

"Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a comer," Quinn murmured teasingly, her lips close to Rachel's ear.

Turning her head to look Quinn in the eye, Rachel gently gathered her lover's hair in both her hands. "My heart's a drummer," she murmured, kissing Quinn. "My heart is yours. All yours."

Quinn kissed her forehead. "I love you, Rachel Berry."

"I love you too, Quinn Fabray."


	3. Chapter 3

It was 6:50.

Rachel had ten minutes left to lay in bed with Quinn, who was still fast asleep-who was, in fact, hogging most of the blankets on a decidely chilly December morning.

They had been together-_together, _her and Quinn Fabray! Who could have thought?-for almost two months now. Ever since that day when Finn had broken up with her, Quinn and Rachel had hardly been apart. After the first three days or so, Rachel'd had no choice but to go back to work, but _Spring Awakening _rehearsals had been the only exception.

16 days from now, they would be spending their first Christmas together.

The thought thrilled Rachel beyond words. She had always loved Christmas-the lights, the parties, the presents. And, of course, the singing.

But this Christmas was even more special than any of the others before. She was the happiest she had ever been, and Quinn seemed to feel the same way. They had talked briefly about Quinn's home-she had a small apartment near Yale's campus, which she hadn't moved out of even after graduating with honors last year-but neither girl had mentioned Quinn going back there.

She realized she had no idea what Quinn did for a living, if she even had a job. It was understandable, of course, if she didn't; in this economy, it was a miracle Rachel herself had a job, let alone in a big production like this.

It struck her, then, how incredibly lucky she was. This play, one of her favorites; this nice apartment smack in the middle of New York City; and this beautiful girl, her head resting on one of Rachel's pillows.

6:56.

Rachel lightly brushed her fingertips across Quinn's cheek, smiling when her lover stirred slightly, her eyebrows contracting into an absent frown. The girl was certainly a deep sleeper...half the time, when Rachel's blaring alarm went off, Quinn didn't wake up until Rachel kissed her good-bye.

This part of the day, when she left Quinn, was always bittersweet for Rachel. On the one hand, that last kiss before she walked out the door was sweet, sensual...a promise of what was to come when she got home. At the same time, walking away from Quinn, closing the door, and actually leaving was the hardest thing she did all day.

6:59.

Sighing, Rachel snaked out her hand, her finger hovering over the off button for the alarm, which was set to a radio station that played "upbeat tunes from the sixties and seventies to get your morning started right" (according to the equally upbeat DJ). Just as the hour changed, before Rachel herself could slap the button, a pale, delicate hand brushed past her own and beat her to it.

She felt Quinn's arms snake around her waist, felt the other girl's lips press a kiss to her shoulder blade. Rachel rolled over in Quinn's embrace to face her.

"Hey," Quinn murmured, her sleepy, husky voice making a shiver dance down Rachel's spine.

"Hi," Rachel said, slipping her own arms around Quinn to pull her closer.

Quinn glanced at the clock, which now read 7:02. "You don't have to go, do you?"

Kissing the tip of Quinn's perfect nose, Rachel nodded. "I'm afraid I do."

With strength imbued in Quinn's muscles from years of gymnastics and Cheerios practice, she rolled over on top of Rachel, pinning her down by the shoulders, her body on top of Rachel's. She grinned ferally at the girl trapped beneath her, who was breathing rapidly, her large brown eyes wide.

"Q-Quinn..."

"I should have phrased myself better," Quinn said. "You don't have to go. End of story."

She began to kiss Rachel's throat, her hand slippng underneath Rachel's nightgown to caress the curve of Rachel's breast, her thumb brushing the nipple. Rachel took a deep breathing, trying to marshall her thoughts into a somewhat convincing argument.

"Q-Quinn...I-I mean it, I have to..."

Quinn kissed her to shut her up. As the kiss deepened, Rachel found her body and her hands acting of their own accord-her legs wrappng around Quinn's waist, her hands stroking and grasping and pulling on Quinn's clothes.

Lifting her head, Quinn looked Rachel in the eye. "Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me, Rach."

Rachel slipped her hand inside Quinn's underwear-all the gorgeous blonde wore to bed, to Rachel's great joy, was one of Rachel's t-shirts and a pair of panties-and gently feathered her fingertips against Quinn's thighs. Quinn closed her eyes, pressing her lips together to muffle the sound of pleasure.

"No," Rachel whispered. "No, Quinn, I want to hear you. I want to know that I'm doing right by you."

By the time Rachel slipped her fingers inside Quinn, the other girl was already whimpering, clutching tightly at the pillow above Rachel's head. Rachel knew Quinn was getting closer and closer, as her whimpers rose in volume, became full-throated moans.

"_Rachel-Ra-R-yes-oh, god!"_

With that last cry, Quinn threw her head back, her whole body trembling. She rolled off of Rachel, curling around her. Grinning, she nodded at the clock.

Rachel glanced over at it. 7:45.

"Well," she said. "I guess I might as well take another sick day..."

Quinn grinned in triumph.


End file.
